


Tiger Lilies

by gillywulf



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Exactly What It Says on the Tin, F/F, First Meetings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 03:26:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3921172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gillywulf/pseuds/gillywulf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Sometimes I steal flowers from your garden on my way to the cemetery, but today you’ve caught me and have demanded to come with me to make sure the “girl is pretty enough to warrant flower theft” and I’m trying to figure out how to break it to you that we’re on our way to a graveyard” AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tiger Lilies

Clarke took a swig from her water bottle before crossing the street. It was easily one of the hottest days of the year and she wanted nothing more than to go flop onto her bed and not move for days, likely with far fewer clothes than the tank and shorts on her body now. 

But. She had a tradition to uphold. 

Once a week, she visited Finn’s grave. Be it from guilt or longing, she didn’t quite know. All that she knew was that if she didn’t, her stomach would roll all day, making it impossible to eat or work or have any fun. So she went. 

The only problem in that was she always liked stopping for flowers. But Clarke was a starving freelance artist, therefore she had no money to spare. However, it so happened, that on her way to the cemetery was an absolutely beautiful garden. It was filled with catmints, forget-me-nots, daisies, lavenders, and - her favorite - tiger lilies. 

And there they were. The flowers soaked up the burning sun, flaunting their beautifully bright colors to the world. Clarke knelt down, letting her eyes roam over the healthy garden. Some days she wanted to meet the gardener, see what kind of person could produce this kind of sight. but then she remembered she was sort of the cause of its destruction and thought better of it. She chuckled lightly and chose a flower to pluck, her fingers grazing the stem. 

“I hope she’s pretty” Clarke shot to her feet, startled. 

“What?” There was a woman standing in the doorway the garden’s house. Her arms were crossed over her chest as she looked down imperiously at her intruder. She was dressed for the weather, but from her vantage point, Clarke couldn’t see much of her shaded face. 

“Whoever you’re going to see. She better be pretty with how often you kill my plants” The woman moved from the doorway and out of the shadows. Clarke’s breath caught in her throat. She was stunning. Her long dark hair was braided, keeping it out of her face which Clarke was infinitely grateful for. 

She had a straight nose and pouty lips which were _easy_ fantasy material. Her cheekbones sloped upwards to interesting green eyes which were narrowed in her direction. Then her words sank in.

“Uh...it’s not... _exactly_ like that” she mumbled. The gardener was clearly not listening as she stepped down from the porch to the sidewalk in order to be level with Clarke.

“It is. So I’m coming with you to make sure she is pretty enough to warrant flower theft” She crossed her arms over her chest again and leveled that imperious look once more. It was easily the most awkward situation Clarke had ever been a part of. She couldn’t say ‘oh, no, they’re for my dead boyfriend who I sort of had a hand in killing’, no, _god_ no. So she shrugged and started walking her normal route. 

“I’m Clarke” she introduced with a gesture towards herself. She figured it would be awkward if they embarked on this adventure without names involved. The woman’s green eyes caught on hers.

“Lexa” she replied curtly. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Lexa” The rest of the walk was quiet besides the occasional redirection when Lexa started the wrong direction in her zealousness. Only once the graveyard gates came into view did Lexa hesitate. Clarke turned to look at her. 

“I thought you wanted to make sure this was worth the flower theft?” she teased lightly before pushing open the gate. Lexa followed after, much more subdued. Finn’s grave was towards the back right beside his parents. The headstone was the same grey stone as everyone elses, the same block script, with only the words and numbers reading differently. 

 

_Finn Collins  
1991-2009_

Clarke privately thought more could have been written, but when things were priced by word, it was hard to justify it. Lexa’s face was set in a frown. 

“What? Not what you were expecting?” Clarke laughed, placing the tiger lily from Lexa’s garden against the stone. Lexa hesitated again.

“No” Clarke laughed and sat on the ground, prompting Lexa to follow suit.

“I did try and tell you. My dad’s actually over there, too. I visit him most days while I’m here, but I don’t want to overwhelm you with the dead people in my life” she joked. Lexa’s awkward silence told her that it was already too late for that. She shut her mouth. 

“Why don’t you do to the florist?” Lexa asked after a tense moment. 

“I’m broke. As an artist, I won’t really have a steady income until I do a large body of work, get my name out there. That has yet to happen” Lexa nodded. For a while, they stared at Finn’s tomb stone, saying nothing. 

“Would you mind if I asked what happened?” Lexa’s voice was softer than before, throwing Clarke for a loop. She laughed painfully. 

“Maybe another time” It didn’t feel like the kind of day where she talked about killing her first love. But Lexa just nodded and didn’t push. Instead, she stood abruptly, almost forcing Clarke to fall over. 

“I have deemed this acceptable. Take all the flowers you need” Clarke blinked.

“Oh, thank you, that’s-”

“I have to go” And just like that, she was gone. The graveyard was suddenly too quiet. True, it wasn’t as if they’d been a whirlwind of conversation before, but it was company, something Clarke hadn’t had during her visits in a long time. So she watched until she couldn’t see Lexa anymore before sighing. 

“Should have expected that” she huffed. She pulled her knees into her chest and stared off into space. It was fine, she didn’t mind. It was only another half hour before Clarke left, twirling a twig in between her fingers. When she passed Lexa’s house, she almost expected to see the beautiful gardener working the soil or staring at her from a window. No such luck. 

But having been granted permission, the next week she didn’t even stop to consider the florist with guilt like she did most weeks. She went straight to Lexa’s half hoping to see her again. She didn’t, however there were two tiger lilies, stems wrapped in paper already sitting in the garden, waiting for her. Clarke grinned and brought it to her nose. 

Maybe she’s ask Lexa to tea. She seemed like a tea sort of girl.


End file.
